The Email Hoax
by AnnLiberty
Summary: One-shot Fourtris, Modern A/U. Adapted from the writing prompt, "You receive an email from a supposed rich Nigerian prince who needs money to get home. You think it's a scam, but out of pity you give him a bit of money with a message saying that it's all you have right now. 5 years later the prince turns up at your door, ready to repay your kindness."


"Never have I ever, um..." Christina hesitated for a minute before her eyes lit up and she smirked across the circle at her best friend, "...fallen for an email scam!"

Tris Prior groaned. She knew there was no way she could get away with sneaking a drink of her beer and not telling the story. Her loudmouth dormmate and best friend was going to tell it. Again.

"What!?" exclaimed Marlene, their neighbor from across the hall.

Lynn, Shauna, Zeke, and Uriah laughed loudly as they waited to hear the story again. With the exception of Marlene, who was new to their group, and Will, who met Christina on a campus tour during their junior year of high school, these were the friends Tris had grown up with. Now they attended Dauntless University together.

"We were, like, sixteen," Christina began, gleeful over a new audience to entertain with Tris' embarrassing story. "Tris got this email asking for money to help some... what did he say he was? Greek or something? Anyway, some guy claiming to be a European big shot. He said he was being abused and wanted to escape. Our soft-hearted social work major sent him her birthday money."

Tris' cheeks flamed hotly. She had a huge heart for kids in abusive homes and had been volunteering that summer at a foundation that raised money to fight domestic abuse. When she got the email at her work address, Tris felt a strong pull to send something. The email hadn't asked for personal or banking information, it just asked for money to be sent through a familiar and secure money-transferring site that Tris knew and trusted. She transferred fifty dollars to the address given in the email. She also attached a note explaining that the fifty was all she had and that she hoped it would help. "No one deserves to be mistreated," she wrote. "You do not deserve it. You have unlimited potential and I wish you all the best in escaping your situation and building a life worthy of the person that you are. You're in my prayers."

She never heard from him again. To make matters worse, the staff meeting at the foundation that week focused on email scams. "Because you work here, scammers know this is something you care about," the manager of Tris' internship group had said. "These scammers will play on your sympathies, but they just want your money and your personal information."

"He called himself something really stupid, too," Christina said, breaking Tris out of her memories. "What was it, Tris? Like 'Yellow' or 'Twelve' or something."

"Four," Tris said.

"And you fell for it?" Marlene choked out around her laughter.

"I was working for a foundation that fights abuse," Tris defended. "I got an email from someone who was being abused and needed help. I was seventeen."

She narrowed her eyes at Christina, who was still laughing at her. "At least I didn't flash my boobs at a whole waterpark of little kids," Tris said.

Christina gasped in horror as Uriah laughed and took up yelling the story of Christina's embarrassing moment. The 'Never Have I Ever' game dissolved as the group clambered to tell more embarrassing stories of each other and themselves.

.

Tris was relieved when finals were done and winter break officially started. She packed her suitcase and caught a ride home with Christina for a month of Christmas celebrations, relaxation, and boredom. Tris didn't have a car, and their small hometown outside of Chicago had no public transportation. With both of her parents working, she anticipated being stuck at home a lot.

When she walked into her childhood home, Tris was instantly relaxed by the comforting familiarity. The Priors lived a simple life. Tris' dad, Andrew, had been a minister when he married her mom, Natalie. The couple began trying for kids as soon as they married, but it took several years before their firstborn, Caleb, arrived. Expecting a similar timeline, the Priors hadn't worried about birth control after Caleb, and Tris arrived eleven months later.

Natalie was a stay-at-home mom when her kids were young, and a source of support for her husband and his ministry. When the kids were in middle school, their parents changed course. The family relocated to the suburbs and Andrew became a chaplain for the Chicago Fire Department. Natalie took on a part-time job managing the town food bank.

Caleb Prior was the awkward genius type. He graduated from high school a year ahead of his sister and enrolled at the prestigious Erudite University. He planned to become a research scientist. Because of his internship with Erudite's research hospital, Caleb would not be home until Christmas Eve.

After an evening catching up with her parents and her laundry, and a night in her old familiar bed, Tris joined Natalie at the food bank. She sorted donations and had coffee with the volunteers. As a kind-hearted and outgoing girl, she was always popular with the volunteers and clients at the food bank.

As Christmas drew closer, the days established a comfortable pattern. Tris got up, had breakfast with her parents, then either puttered around the house or joined Natalie at the food bank. She went to church on Sunday, baked cookies for Andrew to take to the fire stations, and went Christmas shopping with Christina. It was comfortable, familiar, and utterly boring.

On the Monday before Christmas, Natalie left early to work on a special holiday project at the food bank. Tris had breakfast with Andrew, then sent him off to work with the banana bread she had baked for the firemen. Still in her flannel sleep shorts and a hoodie, Tris tackled the breakfast dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. She was dancing around to random Christmas music while cleaning, but stopped dead in her tracks when the doorbell rang.

Tris looked down at her bare legs. _Whoever is at the door undoubtedly heard my music and knows someone is home_, she thought. _It's probably just a package delivery or Chris or Uri._ With that thought, Tris turned down the music and hurried to the door.

She peeked through the window beside the front door and was surprised to see a strange young man on her front step. He was tall, with short, dark hair and deep blue eyes. Though he was dressed in warm layers, Tris could tell that he was quite fit. _Must be one of Dad's firemen_, she assumed as she opened the front door a few inches.

"Hello?" Tris said to the stranger, mentally kicking herself for the weak, questioning tone in her voice.

"Good morning," said the stranger with a slight accent Tris couldn't place. "My name is Tobias Marcus Eaton the fourth, and I am looking for Beatrice Prior. Is Ms. Prior at home?"

"Uh, yeah," Tris said in shock. "That's, uh, that's me. I'm Tris Prior. How can I help you?"

The young man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You?" he questioned. "You are Beatrice Prior?"

"The one and only," Tris said snarkily. She was getting cold standing in the doorway in her sleep shorts.

"I'm sorry," the young man said, obviously still stunned. "You are not what I expected."

"Can I help you with something?" Tris asked, trying to move the conversation along before she got hypothermia.

"My name is Tobias Marcus Eaton the fourth," he repeated. "You know me as Four."

Tris' mouth dropped open, and she was stunned for a moment.

"Very funny Christina!" Tris called past the young man as she recovered her faculties. "Uriah, you can come out now; I'm not falling for it."

"I'm not… Um… I don't know what is happening," the stranger stammered, his accent getting stronger.

"What's happening is that I'm not falling for your stupid prank," Tris said firmly as her anger rose. "You two have teased me about this for years," she yelled over the stranger's shoulder. "I get it. I was stupid. I was young and naive and I wanted to help people. I fell for an email hoax. I get it. Now take your little community-theatre actor and his bad accent and go away before I freeze to death!"

Tris slammed the door in the stranger's shocked face and flipped the deadbolt for emphasis. She marched back to the kitchen and fired off an angry text to Christina.

**T: Not funny.**

Christina responded almost immediately with a question mark.

**T: Don't ? me. That was a stupid attempt at a prank, and I'm not falling for it. You give me crap about that Four thing all the time. Did you really think I'd fall for it?**

**C: Tris, you've lost me. I'm at Grandma's in Indiana, remember? What happened?**

**T: "Four" showed up at my door.**

**C: Lol! I wish I thought of that! It was probably Uri and Zeke.**

Tris texted Uriah.

**T: Nice try. Too bad I'm not 17 anymore.**

**U: What?**

**T: Your stupid prank. How dumb do you think I am?**

**U: U lost me**

**T: Whatever**

Tris threw her phone on her bed and went to take a shower. By the time she emerged, her anger had faded. She braided her long blonde hair and dressed in leggings and a warm sweater. After lunch, one of her favorite Christmas movies came on television, so she grabbed a throw blanket and settled in to watch.

The doorbell rang, and Tris rolled her eyes. This time when she peeked out the window she saw a young delivery man with a large bundle, so she opened the door.

"Beatrice Prior?" the teenager asked.

"Yes," Tris answered skeptically.

"These are for you," the kid replied as he began to unwrap the package. In it was a large vase of red and white roses with sprigs of evergreen.

"They're beautiful," Tris said in shock. The arrangement looked expensive, and she was baffled as to where they came from.

"Have a nice day!" the delivery guy said as he handed Tris an envelope. Just like that, he and his packaging materials were gone, leaving Tris with her arms full of holiday flowers and a white envelope. She carried the roses to the dining room and set them on the table.

Opening the envelope, Tris pulled out a business card and a sheet of crisp baby blue stationary with a fancy navy blue and white shield in one corner. Her eyes raced over the hand-written note.

_Beatrice,_  
_My sincerest apologies for turning up unannounced on your doorstep this morning. I realize that I offended you with my unexpected arrival._

_Though I now know how juvenile it was to email random strangers in America, I was desperate when I contacted you. I sent that message to twenty-three people at three different foundations, and you were the only one who replied._

_Your generous gift touched my heart, but your encouraging words saved my life. Ever since, it has been my dream to meet the woman who saved my life._

_I am in Chicago on business, and would be honored to take you out for dinner so I can thank you properly._

_Sincerely,_  
_Tobias M. Eaton IV_

Tris read the note three times before the words sunk in and she remembered to look at the business card. It was also baby blue, and the right side of the front had the same shield as the stationary. On the left it said "Eaton Holdings" in large block letters, and "Tobias M. Eaton IV" in smaller letters. There was no phone number, address, or email printed on the card. Tris flipped it over and saw a handwritten note.

_Peninsula Hotel, Chicago_  
_I am here until 27 December, then in New York before returning home._

A phone number with a Chicago area code was written at the bottom.

.

Tris was staring back and forth between the flowers, the note, and the internet search results on her phone screen when Natalie arrived.

"Wow!" she said as she walked in and saw the flowers. "Where did those come from?"

"I, um… It's a long story," Tris replied. "I'm not sure where to begin. I may have accidentally made friends with an Albanian millionaire, or billionaire, I'm not sure."

Natalie laughed and looked for a card in the floral arrangement. "Who are they really from?" she asked.

"I wasn't joking," Tris said as she passed her mother the business card. "According to the internet, he's a multi-millionaire if not a billionaire. His family owns shipping, oil, timber, and tech businesses."

"What?" Natalie asked. "How did this happen? Someone you met at school?"

Tris shook her head. "You're going to laugh at me," she said. "Remember that summer I worked for the foundation? Well, I got an email from a guy asking for help. He said he was European and his controlling father was abusive. He needed resources to escape. I fell for it. I sent him a little money. I didn't give him my information or anything, just sent my birthday money and a note of encouragement through a secure site. Turns out I didn't fall for a hoax after all."

"Or you fell for something bigger than a few dollars," Natalie said nervously.

"I have nothing worth stealing," Tris replied. "And these flowers alone cost more than what I sent him. He showed up here this morning, but I didn't let him in. In fact, I thought it was a prank. Then this afternoon the flowers arrived with this note."

Tris handed Natalie the note. "I searched online," she said, "and it seems real. The shield on the card and paper are the family crest. And the guy who showed up this morning is the guy in these pictures."

"Let's see what your dad has to say when he gets home," Natalie suggested.

.

_I'm crazy_, Tris said to herself as she entered the number into her phone the next morning. _I'm stupid. I'm going to be trafficked and end up on a milk carton. This is a bad idea._

The phone rang twice before an accented voice answered. "Tobias Eaton's office, this is Amar."

"Oh, um, hello," Tris said nervously. "My name is Tris Prior, um, Beatrice Prior. I'm calling for Tobias?"

"Miss Prior!" the man responded warmly and eagerly. "Mr. Eaton has been expecting your call. Unfortunately he is in a meeting right now. Do you have a message for him?"

Tris couldn't help but think that this Amar person sounded rather chipper and hopeful.

"Yes, um, Mr. Eaton invited me to have dinner while he's in town. I'm calling in regard to that." Tris hoped she sounded confident.

"Wonderful!" Amar gushed. "Mr. Eaton is in Chicago through the twenty-seventh, then we fly to New York. Are you available while he's here, or would you prefer to meet in New York?"

Tris was shocked by Amar's suggestion. _Who just jets off to New York for dinner?_

"I'd prefer to see him in Chicago," Tris said, playing along as well as she could. "If he has an evening free, of course."

"Certainly!" Amar said cheerfully. "Are you available tomorrow night? Mr. Eaton has been wanting to try out a few of Chicago's better restaurants," he named off a few expensive places Tris was sure he would not be able to get into last minute. "Do you have a preference before I make reservations?"

Tris wasn't a picky eater, so she told Amar that she would be fine with whatever he chose. "And if you can't get last-minute reservations anywhere, Chicago is known for its pizza," she joked.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," Amar said with a chuckle, then took Tris' phone number and promised to call back with details.

Tris threw open her closet doors. Her perfectly serviceable college girl wardrobe looked woefully inadequate when faced with the prospect of dinner with a millionaire at one of Chicago's best and most expensive restaurants. Normally when she didn't know what to wear Tris called Christina, but part of her still thought this dinner was an elaborate hoax. So she looked alone through her clothes.

December in Chicago wasn't conducive to wearing heels, but she had a few skirts that might do. Tris pulled out a knee-length black lace skirt. _Black is always a good idea, right?_ she thought. She dug around some more and found the black ballet flats that Christina had talked her into spending too much money on.

Her phone rang, and Tris snapped it up immediately. It was Amar, letting her know that he had made a reservation at one of Chicago's finest restaurants for seven o'clock Wednesday night, and that a car would pick her up at 6:15.

"Oh!" Tris exclaimed. "You don't need to do that. I can get myself there."

"Mr. Eaton insists," Amar said, ending the discussion.

.

As promised, at 6:15 on Wednesday evening a black Mercedes sedan parked in front of the Priors' home. A short, stocky man with dark hair stepped out and came to the door. Tris' father, Andrew, greeted the visitor.

"Good evening," the driver replied. "My name is Amar, I'm Mr. Eaton's driver and assistant. I'm here to pick up Miss Beatrice Prior for dinner."

"Is Mr. Eaton waiting in the car, or did he not come along to pick up his date?" Andrew asked.

"Mr. Eaton was tied up later than expected with today's business meetings," Amar explained. "He sends his apologies."

Tris walked into the foyer. She was dressed in her lace skirt and flats with Natalie's black cashmere sweater. Her long hair was down and curled, and she wore a delicate silver necklace and matching silver earrings. Her makeup was simple and understated, and her carefully manicured nails were a subtle pale pink.

"Miss Prior," the driver greeted with a short bow. "My name is Amar; we spoke on the telephone."

"Nice to meet you," Tris said, offering her hand.

Amar seemed surprised, but shook Tris' offered hand. He apologized again for Tobias' absence and escorted her to the waiting car.

"There is a bottle of water there for you if you would like," Amar offered from the driver's seat, "and I can raise the partition if you prefer."

"Oh no," Tris assured him. "Down is fine. Unless you prefer to have it closed."

"Is the music acceptable?" Amar asked, referring to the soft jazz playing in the background.

Tris assured him that it was fine as he maneuvered the streets of her hometown. They pulled onto the freeway headed toward downtown Chicago.

"So you work for Mr. Eaton?" Tris asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Yes, Miss," he said. "I'm Mr. Eaton's personal assistant and driver."

"That's nice," Tris said. "Have you worked for him long?"

"Over twenty years," Amar said, his voice softening. "I joined the staff when Mr. Tobias was just a baby. I was the driver for Mr. Tobias and his nannies and governesses."

"Nannies and governesses?" Tris asked. "How much staff does one child need?"

"Not at the same time," Amar explained with a smile. "Mr. Marcus Eaton, Mr. Tobias' father, was a hard employer and went through a lot of staff. Then when Mrs. Eaton passed away, he sent Mr. Tobias and I to boarding school."

"You went with?" Tris asked.

"Not exactly," Amar explained as he maneuvered the car off the freeway and into downtown. "Mr. Tobias went to school, and I was put up in a small flat nearby. I was there for anything he needed, and I drove him home on weekends."

"I hope I'm not prying into private family business," Tris said nervously. "The kind of life that involves servants is foreign to me. I find it fascinating."

"Not a problem, Miss Prior," Amar replied.

"Please, call me Tris."

"Certainly, Miss Tris," Amar said with a warm smile at her through the rearview mirror. "My job is a lot like any businessman's personal assistant, except that Mr. Eaton's whole life is his business, so I assist him with all of it."

"Doesn't that limit your personal life?" Tris asked.

"Mr. Tobias is a good man and a kind employer," Amar said. "My partner and I live in a nice house on the estate, and Mr. Eaton is thoughtful of George and always includes him and considers him before we travel."

"That's nice," Tris said sincerely.

"It is," Amar said. "Gay marriage isn't recognized in our country, but Mr. Eaton treats George and I the same as any married couple. He makes sure we're both taken care of, and he gives to organizations fighting for gay rights. He has a big heart."

Tris was smiling warmly when the driver pulled up to the restaurant and opened her door.

"Thank you, Amar," Tris said, squeezing his hand as he helped her out of the car.

"No, thank _you_, Miss Tris. You've done more good than you'll ever know."

The duo smiled at one another, and the sound of a throat clearing got their attention.

"Good evening Miss Prior," Tobias said in his deep, accented voice. "Thank you, Amar."

Amar nodded, then hurried back to the car as Tobias offered Tris his arm.

"I apologize that I could not pick you up myself," Tobias said as they walked into the restaurant lobby.

"That's quite alright," Tris said as Tobias helped her remove her coat. "I enjoyed visiting with Amar."

"No doubt he enjoyed talking to you as well," Tobias said, his eyes twinkling. "You look lovely tonight."

"Better than when I was yelling at you like a crazy person in my pajamas?" Tris teased. "I owe you an apology for that. I was really rude."

She paused while Tobias gave his name to the maitre d, who assigned a host to guide them to their table. The restaurant was full, and Tris wondered again how Amar had managed to get a last-minute reservation. Tobias held Tris' chair as she sat, then took his own seat. The host handed them each a menu and gave Tobias a wine list.

Tris looked over the menu. She could only identify about half of the items listed on the page, but everything she had seen people eating as they walked in looked and smelled wonderful.

Tobias ordered a bottle of wine, and Tris asked for water. When the sommelier left, Tobias gave her a confused look.

"Did you not like the wine I selected?" he asked. "It will compliment dinner very well."

Tris blushed. "I'm not old enough to drink," she said quietly.

Tobias' eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding a bit panicked. "Americans have strange laws about drinking. I know this is terribly rude, but how old are you?"

"Twenty," Tris said. "I'll be twenty-one this spring."

"And you've never had a drink?" Tobias asked in shock.

"I didn't say that," Tris replied with a wink. "I can't legally buy alcohol or drink it in public places like a restaurant, but I have friends who can buy it."

Tobias smiled and chuckled. "When I came to Chicago I thought I was going to meet a wise old woman," he said. "You have surprised me at every turn, Beatrice Prior."

Tris pouted. "Why did you think I was old?" she asked.

"Your kind heart and the wisdom in your note," Tobias said a bit too quickly.

"And my old lady name?" Tris pressed.

Tobias blushed slightly. The wine was delivered, and after the obligatory cork, look, and taste process, Tobias approved the wine and placed their dinner orders.

"You can say it," Tris prompted when they were alone again. "I didn't pick my name. It sounds like an old grandma. That's why people call me Tris."

"Fine, fine," Tobias admitted. "Your name is a bit matronly. I thought I had an American grandmother praying for me."

"I did pray for you," Tris said softly.

Tobias took Tris' hand across the table. "When I emailed the foundation workers, I thought I had no hope. My family is rich, but I had nothing of my own. Marcus, my father, beat me and told me that I was worthless and that generations of Eatons would be ashamed to see their holdings pass on to me. He was a cruel monster. I never told a soul about it, not even Amar."

Tobias paused to gather his thoughts before he continued. "I had two plans," he said. "First, I would contact American organizations. There were good people fighting for abuse victims here, and none of them knew Marcus. If they would help me, I could get away. But if no one would help me, I was going to kill myself."

Tris gasped and squeezed Tobias' hand.

"Marcus didn't want me," he continued. "He told me every day that I was a failure and a waste. I thought no one would miss me. I almost didn't email the Americans because I thought it was no use. But I did it. And you replied. And your words saved me. I printed your message, and I carry it in my wallet to this day. Someone thought I deserved better. Someone wanted me to be free. Someone prayed for me."

"What happened?" Tris asked, her fingers gripping Tobias' tightly.

"Marcus got called away on business later that week. Your message gave me courage to tell Amar about everything. He helped me make a plan. I went to University in the fall, and took trips during school holidays. I spent as little time as possible at our family estate. Last year Marcus had a heart attack and died.

"I know it's wrong to rejoice in someone's death, but Marcus was a tyrant. I'm free now. I overhauled the household staff and some of the business. I am rebuilding bridges that Marcus burned. Eaton Holdings is paying our employees well again. We are giving to many worthy causes, and in honor of you we donate the equivalent of $18,250 a year to fight child abuse. That's fifty US dollars per day to remember the fifty dollars you sent to me with the words that saved my life."

Tris let go of Tobias' hand to wipe her eyes. The waiter brought dinner, which looked and smelled amazing.

"My friends tease me about you," Tris said quietly after they'd taken their first bites. "They think I was taken in by a scam. That's why I yelled this morning. I thought they were playing a prank on me."

Tobias' looked sympathetic, then his eyes lit up and sparkled. "You know the only thing for us to do is prank them instead," he said.

.

"Are you sure about this?" Tris asked Tobias as Amar drove them to the airfield on Thursday afternoon. "It's a lot of expense for a prank."

"This is going to be awesome," Tobias said eagerly.

In the driver's seat, Amar nodded. He hadn't stopped grinning since he helped them plan the prank on their way home from Wednesday's dinner.

"It's your money," Tris said resignedly.

Amar parked the Mercedes at the private terminal and held the door for Tris. Tobias jumped out of the car and grabbed a poinsettia plant, which Amar had picked up at a flower shop. The two men hurried Tris to a waiting helicopter. Amar opened her door, then properly buckled her in. Tobias climbed in beside her, setting the plant on the floor between his feet. Tris put on her headset as Amar got in the front with the pilot. When everyone was set, the pilot gave them basic instructions and took off.

Tris was exhilarated by her first helicopter ride. Takeoff was a strange experience. At first the craft shook, but when the rotors got up enough speed, it felt like Godzilla reached down and plucked them off the ground. Tris let out a surprised laugh, causing Amar to turn and smile at her. When his smile turned to concern in Tobias' direction, Tris looked to see what caused the assistant's worry.

Tobias was white as a sheet, his eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched into tight fists. Not wanting to embarrass him in front of the others, Tris stayed quiet. Instead, she reached for his hand. Tobias uncurled his fingers just long enough to grasp Tris' hand, then held on tight for the remainder of their flight.

The helicopter settled on a flat patch of land near a farmhouse in rural Indiana. Within minutes there were faces peering out every window of the house, and two men stepped out onto the porch. When the rotors stopped turning, Amar helped Tris out of the helicopter and into the calf-deep snow. Tobias followed, the poinsettia in his arms.

The duo ran across the snowy lawn to the house. "Merry Christmas!" Tris called to Christina's dad, Jeff, who was standing on the porch with his brother.

"Tris?" he asked, stunned to see his daughter's best friend climbing out of a helicopter at his mother's farm.

The door to the farmhouse burst open and Christina appeared. "Tris?" she said, parroting her dad.

"Merry Christmas!" Tris said again, thrusting the holiday plant at her best friend.

"What… Who… Wh… what are you doing here?" She stammered.

"We stopped by to wish you a merry Christmas," Tobias said.

"In a helicopter?" Christina asked in shock.

"Of course," Tobias said.

"Oh, I guess I should introduce you," Tris said flippantly. "Tobias, this is my best friend, Christina. Christina, this is Four."

"Wha- what?" Christina stammered. "Are you messing with me?"

"Do I have helicopter money in my prank account?" Tris asked. "This is Tobias Marcus Eaton the fourth from Albania. He's in Chicago on business and wanted to meet. When I told him about the grief you've given me over the years, he wanted to meet you, too."

"It's nice to meet you, Christina," Tobias said.

The farmhouse door opened again and Christina's mom and sister walked out.

"Stephanie, Rose, this is Tobias Eaton from Albania. He's visiting Chicago on business and thought it would be fun to go for a helicopter ride, so we dropped in to say merry Christmas."

Tobias offered his hand to Stephanie. A whistle from the helicopter got their attention, and Tris and Tobias looked to see Amar waving at them.

"I'm sorry we must leave already," Tobias said.

"Flight plans," Tris said with a shrug, as if helicopter rides were an everyday thing. "Merry Christmas everyone!"

Tobias grabbed Tris' hand as they ran across the snowy lawn to the waiting helicopter. When they got back to Amar and the pilot, they couldn't stop laughing. "I've never seen Christina speechless in my entire life!" Tris laughed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

They climbed in and buckled up for the return trip to Chicago, hands clasped the entire ride.

.

Natalie and Andrew insisted on having Tobias and Amar over for dinner, so they drove straight from the airfield to the Priors' home. Natalie had prepared a hearty beef stew for her guests with homemade bread and green salad.

The trio regaled Tris' parents with the story of their surprise visit to Christina's grandma's farm, and Tris read aloud the thirty plus text messages she had gotten from Christina when the shocked girl had found her voice again.

"That seems like a lot of money to spend on a prank," Andrew said.

"We had fun," Tobias said, throwing his arm casually across the back of the couch and around Tris. "It was worth every penny to see Tris laugh like that. Your daughter saved my life, Mr. Prior. I would give every bit of my fortune to see her happy."

"You saved your own life - with Amar's help," Tris argued, leaning into Tobias' side and nudging him with her shoulder. "I just gave you a little encouragement."

Tobias squeezed Tris' shoulder. It seemed so natural to touch her, and physical affection had _never_ been natural to Tobias. His father's hands brought only pain, and the staff had always been appropriately detached. The only people who ever tried to touch Tobias were the gold diggers at society events, and their version of affection was lecherous.

Tris was different. She had cared for him when no one else seemed to. She wasn't after his money or what he could do for her. She was just sweet and real, a light shining for anyone who needed it, and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

At the end of the evening, Amar went out to start the car, and Tobias and Tris found themselves alone.

"I got a new phone," Tobias said, pulling a new, top of the line iPhone out of his pocket. "This is my American phone. You can call or text me anytime, and you don't have to go through Amar or pay to call Albania. I thought we could stay in touch that way."

"You did that for me?" Tris asked.

Tobias took a shaky breath. "I know that you are here and I'm in Albania, but I want you in my life. Will you put your number in my phone so we can talk and text?"

Tris nodded eagerly. She put her number in Tobias' phone and used it to text herself so she would have his number as well.

When they tucked their phones back into their pockets, Tobias reached for Tris' hands. "I didn't expect this when I came to Chicago," he began, "but in a few short days you have become very important to me, Tris. I'm drawn to your beauty, but even more than that I'm drawn to the wonderful person you are."

"I'm drawn to you, too," Tris confessed. "You are so strong, Tobias. You came from a terrible situation but became a wonderful man. I love that you're mending things that Marcus trampled. I love your generous heart, too. I'm so proud of you."

Tobias' eyes filled with tears. "No one has ever been proud of me," he said in a choked voice.

Tris threw her arms around him, and suddenly his lips were on hers. She reciprocated the kiss and slid her hands around to his shoulders. Tobias moved his hands to her waist as the kiss became more passionate.

When they pulled apart, desperate for air, Tris smiled up at Tobias.

"I'm so glad I answered that email," she said.


End file.
